


The Lost and The Forsaken

by ArchangelAriel



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Arthur is now your dad, Depression, Fluff, Gender Neutral, HAVE SOME GODDAMN FAITH, Mild Spoilers Later?, No Spoilers, Other, Protective Arthur, Reader-Insert, Swearing, i have a plan, red dead redemption 2 - Freeform, will add more tags later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-03 02:46:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17275646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelAriel/pseuds/ArchangelAriel
Summary: Life hadn't always been this miserable. In fact, you use to live such a wonderful life; but that had all changed two years ago with the passing of your mother. Now, aged at only six years old, your life would change forever when you find yourself getting caught up in your father's downward spiral and dodgy deals. Who knew getting involuntarily dragged into this mess would lead to you meeting an outlaw?(Arthur Morgan & Child!Reader)





	1. So Rescue Me...

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I finally had the time and guts to sit down, write and post this. As someone who use to write a lot of fan fiction years ago but stopped due to people plagiarising, I'm finally back and I'm pretty rusty, so please go easy on me haha. Anyway, thank you for giving this piece of writing a chance, it might not be great but I happily welcome any criticisms and ideas any of you may be willing to give with what this story could turn out like, I currently have a few ideas but I want to see first if anyone's even interested in this story before I start writing more. If you see any mistakes please let me know, though I have proof-read it a few times but I'm only human. -Ariel

Life hadn’t been fair to you to say the least. Within the short six years that you’ve been alive you have gone through so much pain, perhaps even more so than most kids your age. You see, life hadn’t always been bad for you, no, in fact you use to live a good life up until two years back. You had a home, a small ranch not far from a town called Valentine, a home in which you had spent a lot of your time running around playing in the vast amounts of grass and woodland or helping your parents with chores, or sitting with them while learning to read and write out on the porch or up by that big tree that you loved so much, sometimes you’d even be lucky enough to accompany them into town where you’d get to observe day to day life whether it be watching as people socialised around you or nodded a greeting to your family or even brawls breaking out from the saloon, or just watching as people rode passed you on their horses while your parents attended to their business. Yes, you had lived a loving and tranquil life then... 

But now, now everything had gone to hell. Two years ago, on one dark and stormy day your life had changed for the worst. A few weeks before, your mother had gotten sick, though neither your mother nor father had thought much of it at the time that was until she got progressively worse, worse off to the point where she was practically bed bound and was just slowly fading away as each day went by, your father had tried everything that the doctor from Valentine had offered from what he could afford, but in the end it was no use and on that stormy day she passed, leaving you both behind. Yet even though you had lost your mother it almost felt as though you had lost both your parents that day, your father didn’t take your mother’s death well. Neither did you in fact, you missed her dearly every day, wishing that you’d wake up from this nightmare to find her sitting by your bedside humming a song, but no. Your father had distanced himself from everything, from you, from the ranch you called home, he was a shell of whom he used to be, he didn’t care anymore. Most of the time he could be found in the saloon drinking away the pain into drunkenness leaving you to fend for yourself at home, which back then you’d have hated but now that it was just you both you preferred to be alone, it hurt less seeing what had become of your father. 

To make matters worse you were currently caught up in something serious between your father and some God-awful people. You had been at home washing dishes when there had been fierce pounding on the door. Fear had instantly hit you, your gut telling you to run and hide, this was not your father at the door, no, he’d have come stumbling in if it were him or shouted in his slurred grumbled voice for you to let him in, besides it was far too early in the day for it to have been him. This was someone else. So, you ran and hid in the only safe place that you knew, under your bed and silently hoped that whoever it was would go away. 

That however was not the case, a loud bang shook you from your hiding spot and you had quickly covered your mouth to stop yourself from crying out as the tears and dread started to build up within you. You could hear them, whoever these people were walking around your home, muffled shouting to one another, knocking things over, rummaging through drawers and cupboards, the creaking of doors opening nearby and then the next thing you knew everything went silent. That’s when the footsteps grew louder, with each step the thud of someone’s boots against wood boomed until they came to a halt right outside your door. You bit your tongue to stop yourself from letting out any whimpering sounds as your door creaked open, your heart thunderously banging against your little ribcage as the pair of boots began to stomp around your room and searched for something before they stopped at the side of your bed. Every fibre of your being was telling you to run, to get out of there, to go to a nearby neighbour or run as fast as you could to the saloon to your father but you couldn’t move, fear had grounded you as time slowed down around you as you watched this intruder before you kneel down and find you with a devilish grin on his face. 

“Well, looky what we ‘ave here!” He announced loudly enough for his companions to hear from the other rooms. He grabbed you by your arm and dragged you out before you even had a chance to blink or squirm away from his grasp and lifted you up to face him. The man was vile looking, he stunk of dirt, smoke and alcohol, his dark wiry hair that peaked out from under his hat stuck to his forehead from all the sweat and grease, his bushy beard looked as unkept as the rest of him as he grinned at you with rotting yellow teeth peeking out from beneath the mass of facial hair. He looked over your shoulder towards his friend who was now stood at the door. “Looks like there’s someone home after all!” 

You can feel yourself shake under the man’s grip, never before had you ever been this scared, you were almost convinced your heart was going to give out at how quickly it was pounding. You grasp at the man’s grip on your arm, trying to free yourself as the need to flee increases but his grip is tight enough to bruise. 

“Seems like it.” The man stood at the door way mutters, you cast him a quick glance seeing that he was just as horrible looking as the other before you. “Now how ‘bout you tell us where your daddy is kid and we promise we won’t kill ya.” 

With widened eyes you look between both men, judging whether they’d actually go ahead with that idea, which you instantly answered to yourself with yes. What in the world had your father gotten himself into, why of all people in the world to associate himself with did it have to be scum like this? You could feel the tears streaming down your face now and the tightness in your throat stopping you from speaking as the urge to cry out threatened to take over. You were going to die. 

“Not a talker, eh?” The man who had a hold of you shook you as he spoke before pulling you up off the ground by your arm, the pain instant as his nails dug into your skin. “Y’know, you should be more worried about yerself right now than your daddy, kid.” he growled at you, his foul breath hitting your face and making you crane your face as far away from him as you could. 

After a few moments of nothing but silence and tears constantly streaming down your face did the man at the door groan in frustration as another member of their gang shouted from elsewhere within the house. Turning to leave the room he half turned his head towards you both, anger clear on his face as he muttered. “Bring ‘em with us, if they don’t speak up then we’ll use ‘em as leverage.” 

With that being said you were then flung over the greasy dark-haired man’s shoulder like a rag doll and forced out of the place you once felt safe, the only place you’ve ever called home. You weren’t sure you’d ever see it again, or even if you would live to see tomorrow as you were thrown over the back of a horse. All you could do now was hope that if your father cared enough about you that he’d find a way to bring you home. But you really weren’t going to hold out for much anymore.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Hours had passed by and no one had come for you. Right now, you were currently tied up and dumped in the corner of some old decrepit shack in the middle of the woods with absolutely no knowledge of what town you were even near. You had long stopped crying now, the tears had dried and the tightness of your throat had loosened, now however you were stuck between anger and fear. Anger at your father for getting you into this mess, for leaving you, for not caring about you after your mother had passed, for not even giving you the time of day or even a single glance. You hated him, you hated the man he had become, you grieved for the one he was before. You wanted that version of your father to come get you, to save you, do everything he possibly could for his family, for you. 

But that just wasn’t going to happen... 

Not anymore. 

You were alone. 

The slam opening of the shack door startles you as you look up towards the two men you had seen before in your room enter, the one who had dragged you from under your bed glimpses over at you, his devilish smile back on his face as he walks to the table in the centre of the room and grabs at the bottle of whiskey and begins chugging it down. The other man from before following in behind him and slamming the door shut with his boot before he strides over to you and stops right in front of you as he glares down at you as though you are nothing but a dead rodent at the side of the road. 

“Turns out your daddy ain’t too fussed ‘bout what happens to you.” His dull voice mentions as he kneels down and leans in so his face is close to yours, forcing you to push yourself as far back against the wall as you can. “Means we get to do whatever we want with ya.” 

You flinch at that as the one man you hadn’t really seen much off begins laughing manically at your reaction before he re-casts his eyes in your direction and stands from his seated position by the ruined fireplace. 

“I say we kill ‘em and feed ‘em to the wolves.” He voices with a strong Irish accent. “’S not like the lil’ brat has brought us anything but a headache.” 

Before any of the others have time to voice their opinions on how you should be ‘dealt with’ gunshots fire from outside of the shack causing two of the three men to go running out and join the rest of the gang. For a slip second part of you hopes that it’s your father, that he’s got the law to come and get you, but that instantly slips away when you remember he doesn’t care. 

You flinch at every gunshot as the nerves begin to build up again as you pull yourself closer to your corner of the room, huddled up and waiting for your demise. You just wished you could have lived longer, long enough to have been able to live your life, to learn how to ride a horse, to have grown old enough to leave your family home and start your own life far away from your father, maybe even get a dog, who knows. Not you anyway, you’ll never know what your life would have been like as the shouting and gunshots grow silent outside. 

The man who stayed behind, the Irish one, slowly stalks his way to the door ready to attack whoever enters the shack. You can hear the thuds of footsteps walk towards the structure, the jingling of metal against the wooden decking and just like that, as soon as you hear it, it stops. 

Slowly the door creaks open and within a blink of an eye everything's over with a loud boom of a gun. The Irishman that was standing by the door stops still for a few seconds, his gun then falling from his hand as his body thumps lifelessly to the ground. You shiver, not sure whether it’s from being scared or the cold air that the now open door brings in as the stranger walks in, kneeling down and taking whatever valuables the Irishman had on him. 

When he stands up again, glancing around the room that’s when his eyes land on you and you instantly gulp. This was it. This was how you were gonna die, at the hands of this stranger, this man who wore a brown leather jacket with a blue shirt and black neck scarf, who’s face you could barely make out from the black worn leather hat that hung low on his head. 

The stranger took two hesitant steps towards you only to stop when he sees you squirm into your corner before flinching at the burning of the ropes on your wrists behind your back. He slowly raises a hand out before him, the one that isn’t holding a gun. 

“Easy now kid, I ain’t gonna hurt you.” he says in a calm gruff voice watching you closely. You don’t believe him, not in the slightest, so far everyone that you’ve met today wants to do nothing but hurt you so why would this guy be any different? Especially since he’s stood a few meters away from you with a gun still in hand, a gun that could be easily used to end you. He follows your eyeline only to see why your so frightened and slowly he raises the gun and holsters it before showing both his empty hands. “See? You’re safe now.” 

Watching him for a few moments you ponder if he actually is telling the truth, what if he actually isn’t going to hurt you? Can you even trust him, after everything that’s happened to you today? It’s too much for your little brain to process so you give up, nodding in some sort of defeated acceptance that you believe him as you drop your gaze to the rotting wooden floor. The stranger seems to understand this as a sign that it was safe to approach you as you hear the clunking of his boots make their way over towards you, the metal spurs clinking with each step until he’s stood before you. 

“Damn O’Driscoll bastards.” he mumbles to no one but himself as he kneels down. Quickly you look up from the floor and watch him, for the first time you can actually see his face, he’s nowhere near as horrible or scary looking as the mean men who had taken you captive were, in fact if it hadn’t been for him killing all of them, you’d have said he looked almost friendly even with a frown on his face. His blue eyes are watching you back, as though he’s studying you for something, looking at him you struggle to find any indication that he was lying about not harming you, what you did find however is a slight hint of sadness or maybe even pity in his eyes? 

Whatever it was it’s gone almost as instantly as he pulls out a knife from his belt, causing you to somewhat cower away. He breathes a sigh of regret as he rests his empty hand on the knee of his dark jeans. “I’m just gonna cut the ropes, ok?” He says softly and after a small pause you nod your head, shimmying forward and away from your wall to allow him to lean around and cut the binds. Instantly you pull your arms around, your hands swiftly going to your already bruising wrists as you begin to rub at them. When the man moves back to his original kneeling position his eyes quickly land on your movements, his expression furrowing as he mutters curses under his breath and stands, sheathing his knife as he makes his way over to the table. 

Following, you too stand for what feels like the first time in forever even if it had only been for the better part of most of the day. It isn’t until you're actually standing up on your own two feet that you realise how tall this man who’s currently scouring the shack for loot is compared to you, you were never really the tallest kid for your age but even now you only just about stand about up to his waist. Hell, you’re almost certain that he’s taller than your father. 

“So uh...” Picking up a can of something that he finds in one of the old cupboards on the opposite side of the room he turns around to face you. “You got a name kid?” 

“(Y/N).” Your small voice instantly responds, unsure whether you had even said it loud enough for him to hear but he nods his head anyway. 

“Arthur Morgan.” He replies as he saunters back over to you and stopping a respectful distance away. You have to crane your neck to look up at him as he gazes down at you, a small smile playing at the corner of this mouth. “So then (Y/N), you gonna tell me where I can take ya? Where’s your family stay?” 

At the mention of family you instantaneously feel yourself shrink. Did you even have a family anymore? One of the bad men who was now dead said that your father didn’t care what they did to you, was it a lie or had it been the truth? As much as you wanted to believe it was a lie your gut was telling you it wasn’t, you didn’t have a family. You hadn’t had a family since you were four years old. 

You sigh as you cross your arms and cast your eyes back down to the ground, finding it far easier to look at than the growing confusion and concern on Arthur’s face when you refuse to respond straight away. 

“He doesn’t care.” Arthur raises a brow, now even more confused by your actions. 

“Who doesn’t care?” You look up to him then, hugging yourself more tightly with your eyes burning at the threat of tears that you refuse to let fall.

“My dad.” Voice so quiet that Arthur has to strain himself to make out what you’re even saying. He sighs at this, calloused hand reaching up to his face as he lifts his hat slightly and rubs his forehead. Why did every job he ever had to carry out always come with some form of complications? What in the world was he supposed to do with you? You were just a kid, alone out here in the middle of nowhere with no town nearby and apparently no one who gave a damn about you. One thing for sure was he couldn’t just leave you out here, you’d barely last the night on your own he reckons, besides there were more O’Driscolls most likely nearby that could show up here soon... 

Lowering his hand Arthur makes his decision and quickly but gently walks closer to you, lightly placing a hand on your shoulder and snapping your attention back to him. He watches you for a moment as you speedily start wiping at your face, embarrassed about showing just how much all of this was affecting you. 

“We’ve gotta go.” He says softly, gently pushing you in the direction of the door as he walks slowly beside you with his hand remaining on you as he guides you while shielding your field of vision from any of the dead. “It ain’t safe here.” 

Once outside he drops his hand and brings it to his mouth to whistle. Taking a hesitant step off the wooden decking, shoe covered feet hitting mud, you marvel around at the surrounding trees as the rain drops tenderly onto your face. How could such a magical place house such horrible people? You turn back to the direction in which Arthur had started walking off in when you hear the repetitive sound of hooves growing louder only to find a large brown and white patched horse appear from between the trees, whinnying as it trotted over and came to a halt near Arthur, who gives the horse a pat. 

Walking over you stop behind Arthur with one arm awkwardly clutching your opposing arm as you shuffle with uncertainty. You’ve been around horses but were never allowed to be this close to them. Arthur looks at you from the corner of his eye and raises a brow, but whatever question he has on his mind he doesn’t voice it as he quickly packs the last of his items into his saddlebag before turning around to you. 

“Where are we going?” You ask unclear as to where you both could even go from wherever it was you were. Arthur doesn’t answer straight away and instead motions for you to come closer, which you do sceptically, and before you can even dispute anything else he firmly places his hands on your waist and with ease lifts you onto his horse. You freeze up unsure of what you should do now that you’re up here, the last time you were even on a horse was when the bad men had taken you and brought you here on horseback but even at that you were too busy panicking over your impending survival to actually think about it, but now that you have time to actually process what’s happening you didn’t think being on the back of a horse would be this scary and high up! 

Arthur then places his foot on the stirrup and lifts himself up onto the horse’s back behind you, his hands reaching out at both sides of you as he grabs onto the rein as you grab hold of the horse’s mane. 

“Someplace safe.” Is all he says as he gently kicks the horse into motion and heads off to the only place he knows you’ll be looked after.


	2. Hereafter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! 6,495 words later and I give you part 2! Just want to say thank you all so much, the amount of support I've received for this story has honestly blown me away. I really didn't think it would come to much, but here we are. Again, all criticisms and ideas welcome and any spelling or grammar errors, please give me a shout, I have checked over this a few times but this part is just about double the length of part 1 so mistakes can be easily missed. -Ariel

Days had passed since Arthur had brought you to the camp site set up on Horseshoe Overlook. When he had told you on the day that he saved you from the O’Driscolls that he was taking you “Someplace safe,” this wasn’t what came to mind. 

The time it had taken to travel here had been lengthy, or at least it had felt that way, all you knew was it had started to get later in the day as the sun had begun to set by the time you had got there. You didn’t speak much on the way there, only answering when Arthur would ask you something or would point something out to you, like some deer or wild horses that he had noticed. For the majority of your time on horseback you had remained mostly in a comfortable silence while you just observed the passing world. It was hard for you take in and process everything that had happened to you in such a short amount of time; yet even after all the bad things that had happened you still found beauty in the world, whether it be just the landscapes of the pretty mountains and rivers to the animals that you saw on the way, you had never felt so free, so alive... 

So safe. 

When Arthur had slowed his horse down to a relaxed trot and guided it up a dirt path surrounded by trees you both had been met by a large man both in height and build who was stood by a tree nearby. He wore grey pants with black boots, blue checked shirt with a brown hat and a dark big bushy brown beard.  
Oh, and he also had a shotgun on hand too. 

“Who goes there?!” He had loudly demanded as you both approached, he clutched his shotgun tightly. You had shrunk into your spot on the horse, afraid of what was to come, afraid of what this bear of a man could do. But Arthur never motioned into a defensive position, instead he had sighed in annoyance. 

“It’s Arthur!” He had shouted back from behind you as his horse continued to make its way further into camp, not at all startled by their interactions. Arthur had noticed that you had tensed up at the sudden appearance of Williamson, which had only irritated him more seeing as he had tried his best to keep you calm and relaxed; but Bill had gone and ruined that so once you both had moved further away from him, he muttered “Ya dumbass.” 

Once at the hitching posts Arthur had instantly climbed off his horse and gave him a quick pat and praise before turning his attention back to you. You had sat there awkwardly fidgeting with the horse’s mane, unsure of what to do or where to even look with the growing pairs of eyes that were turning to look at you both from every direction. If the increase of attention got to Arthur, he didn’t show it, instead he stepped to the side of the horse and right in front of you. 

“Well? Come on now.” His gruff but gentle voice said as he waited for you to ready yourself. Carefully, you shuffled backward, bringing your leg over so both of your little legs now dangled off the same side of the horse that Arthur stood at. He immediately raised his hands and grabbed a hold of you as he lifted before gently setting your feet on the ground. Never before had you been so happy to be standing. “Stay close, all right?” Before you even had time to respond Arthur had started to walk in the direction of the tents nearby. You had to almost run to keep up with his long strides. 

As you’re both making your way through the camp you manage to catch a glimpse at a few of the occupants and the mixture of complete, utter confusion and intrigue they had spread across their faces. One of the first faces you see is that of an old man who was sat at a round table with a book in hand, a friendly and welcoming smile upon his face. The others were that of a beautiful young African American woman who wore her dark brown hair up in a French braid and was holding a basket of folded clothes; she quietly said a greeting to Arthur as she walked passed, the last person you saw on your way was very brief but was of a young boy who looked around your age, perhaps a little younger, he had kept his distance before he had ran off as you followed close behind Arthur. 

Abruptly, he came to a halt and you had to react quickly to stop yourself from running straight into the back of his legs. You both stood at a very open looking shelter with a wagon placed under a canvas roof, some photographs were pinned onto the side of wagon which bellow them sat a cot bed, two stacks of crates sat behind it while a trunk sat on the ground at the foot of the cot, a small wooden table with a framed picture and other items rested upon its surface and a barrel a few steps away with a mirror. Arthur had his back to you for a moment, his hand reached up to rub the back of his neck as he turned back around to you. 

“Now then, you wait right here.” He said as he motioned towards what you can only assume is his resting quarters. Arthur then started to walk away before he sharply turned and said. “Don’t go wonderin’ or nothing. I’ll be right back.” 

“But-” 

Whatever you were going to say he doesn’t wait to hear it as he starts to speed walk over to a nearby tent. With a sigh you walked further into the shelter and sat yourself down on the cot. What in the hell had you gotten yourself into? To think only this morning, you had been stuck at home as you had like every other day for the past four years since your mother’s death, your father left early each and every morning to do who knows what only to come home blind drunk late at night. You had been pretty much left to deal with the chores at home all on your own while trying to take care of yourself at the same time. Somehow, perhaps by sheer dumb luck, you had managed to keep yourself alive for this long. But that almost changed today when those men came looking for your father. If it hadn’t been for Arthur...

You physically shivered the thoughts away. There were no words to describe how grateful you were to Arthur for saving you when he did, he could have left you there afterwards or dumped you off at the side of a road or town, but instead he had brought you here. Even if you had no idea where here even was other than some sort of camp filled with interesting looking people, for some reason you felt safe. Safe knowing that you were far away from those bad people and safe knowing that even though he had no obligation what so ever to take care of you, that you had Arthur looking out for you. 

For now, anyway. 

After what had felt like forever sitting still you had grown inpatient, you had been sitting around all day after all. So, you had decided to entertain yourself by having a look around at some things nearby while you waited on Arthur coming back. Instantly, you had turned your attention to the photographs that had been pinned to the side of the wagon, you had to climb further onto the cot to get a decent look at them. The first photograph that you looked at was of three men, two of them were sat on chairs both holding either a cigar or cigarette; the man on the left had a lighter colour of hair from the other two, he was sat with his leg crossed over his knee while the third man, the one in the middle who’s hair looked black and slicked back, stood with his hand resting on the young man with slightly lighter hair on the right’s shoulder. The second photograph that your eyes land on is that of a youngish man with dark hair and moustache, it looks to have been a photograph that was taken by the law as the man is stood holding a board with his name, ‘Lyle Morgan,’ the crime he had committed and the date of his arrest, ‘12/7/1874.’ You notice too that this man was wearing what looked to be the same hat as Arthur. Didn’t he say his name was Arthur Morgan? Maybe this was his father or another family member? Finally, the last photograph that was pinned just below ‘Lyle Morgan’ was that of a happy looking dog, you’re not sure what it was about this photograph in particular but it made you smile a little. 

“And who do we have here?” 

You had nearly fallen over at how quickly you had spun around on the cot to the source of the voice. Panic had instantly caused your heart to beat faster as you stared wide eyed at the man who stood the short distance away from you with his hands rested on his belt. You had recognised him as one of the men in the photographs, the man in the middle of the other two men with the black slicked back hair; only he was older now and had grown a moustache with a soul patch below his lips, his clothes were also a lot more elegant looking than everyone else you had seen in the camp as he wore a fancy black suit with a pristine white shirt under his black Paisley patterned vest that was accessorised with two gold chains, he also had a red pocket square peeking out of his suit coat and wore a black hat. 

He raised a brow at you before casting an expectant glance over at Arthur, who you hadn’t even noticed was stood an arm's length away from the other. There was some sort of unspoken conversation that they had both shared within that one single look as the man in the fancy suit then raised his hands slightly in surrender when he turned his attention back to you, the same way in which Arthur had done when he had first found you. 

“It’s all right, now.” He hushed as he took a couple of careful steps towards you. “Arthur here told me all about how he found you.” Another couple of steps. “You’re safe now, I can promise you that.” 

With that said the man was now sat a short distance beside you on the cot watching you with great consideration. You quickly glanced between both him and Arthur, who had taken a few steps forward himself and was now stood where the other man had been when he had first spoke, only he had his arms crossed and stayed silent as he watched the scene play out. 

“Now then.” The dark-haired man had started, which brought your attention back to him. He slowly motioned his right hand upwards and took off his hat, resting it upon his knee as he kept a hold of it. “May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?” 

“I-” You began but paused as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Without thinking your eyes jumped back over to Arthur, as though searching for some sort of sign that it was ok to speak to the man beside you. He seemed to pick on your wary look instantly and gave you a nod of encouragement. Turning back around to the man; who was now grinning at the whole exchange between you both, you spoke. “My name is (Y/N).” 

“Well, isn’t that just a fine name.” He says softly, grin still playing on his face. “My name’s Dutch Van der Linde, kid.” He clasps his other hand on top of his hand that was holding his hat, his expression changing to something more serious. “Arthur said you had run into a bit of trouble back there, that true?” You nodded a ‘yes’ and he sighed before remaining silent for a few moments, thinking of how they should go about dealing with you. 

The gang had only just survived getting away from the law after the heist at Blackwater went to hell, then everything that happened with the snow storm and the events that happened up the mountains...Current situation wasn’t great to say the least. But from how much Arthur had told Dutch about what you had said once he had saved you from the O’Driscolls was that you weren’t exactly in the best situation either. According to Arthur, you had no one else who really cared about you. Dutch knew that the right thing to do would have been to send Arthur out there to find out who you belonged to and send you home, he should have done that.

However, for some reason when he looked at you; sat there in front of him with tired eyes and scared out of your wits end, it took him back to the times he had stumbled upon Arthur and John all those years ago. Sure, both of them had been a few years older than you were when he had found them nor were either of them as frightful as you were now, but you were still so young and he could see the potential in you... 

“Tell you what, (Y/N).” Dutch began after contemplating over his decision. “How’s about you stay here with us for the time being? Just ‘till you figure out what it is you wanna do or can think of anyone who’d take you in.” 

Now you had decisions to make. The way it was looking you had three options. Option 1: Go back to your broken home, to your father, where you’d most likely live your life away cooped up indoors until you were either brave enough to run away or someone ends up breaking in again only this time ends up killing you. Option 2: Stay here with Arthur and Dutch at their camp where you’d be surrounded by people whom you would eventually get to meet and know, where you would get to feel safe and not have to worry as much as you use to. Option 3: Live it out there in the big wide world all on your own and see how long you lasted. Well, that one wasn’t really an option. 

In fact, it was an easy decision. 

“All right.” Your small voice spoke as you looked Dutch in his dark brown eyes. “I’ll stay.” 

“Well, isn’t that good to hear!” Dutch contentedly said, a smile spread across his face as he patted you on the back. He stood then and began making his way out of the shelter before turning to you both again. “Arthur, why don’t you make sure our newest resident gets something to eat? Kid probably hasn’t eaten all day. Oh, and while you’re at it; if either you or Ms Grimshaw could find a place for ‘em to sleep, last thing we need is for (Y/N) here fallin’ asleep on their feet.” 

“Sure.” Arthur answered as Dutch fully turned and walked off back to his own tent. He was in two minds whether bringing you here had actually been a good idea or not. Sure, he and the gang would be able to protect you from any dangers and make sure you were fed and cared for but at the same time they were outlaws. They were dangerous people, looked down upon by modernised society, this type of life wasn’t right for a kid. 

He ran a hand over his face to snap himself out of his thoughts as he looked over to you who was still sat on his cot; looking up at him eagerly. He sighed. “Let’s go get you something to eat then.” 

He would have thought that the cot bed had caught fire and burned you at how quickly you had jumped to your feet and almost ran to him after what he had said. He almost let himself smile at your reaction as he started leading you both in the direction to whatever stew Pearson had cooked up for them this time. Almost. 

\------------------------------------------------------- 

Settling into the camping lifestyle had been tricky to say the least. The first night had been the worst so far. After Arthur had gotten you both something to eat, he had left you by the campfire to get acquainted with the other members under the watchful eyes of Dutch and Hosea -the old man who you had first seen upon arrival- while he set off to find you someplace to sleep. That wasn’t the bad part, if anything you rather liked meeting some of the camp’s residents if not finding it partially overwhelming. The difficult part about adjusting to camp life was the sleeping in close proximity to everyone and the noises that you could hear beyond the darkness, it kept you on edge for the first night or two but you were starting to adapt after both Hosea and a young dark haired woman that was introduced to you as Abigail -who you also learned was the mother to the young boy you now knew as Jack- had offered you some words of comfort. You had seen Arthur here and there around the camp over the past few days, he had always made sure to check up on you once in a while when he was around just to make sure you were coping all right and if you had needed anything. 

Currently, it was early afternoon at Horseshoe Overlook. Once you had had a quick bite to eat you had spent your morning helping around camp by feeding the chickens. One of the older women, Ms Grimshaw, had told you how to do it even though you had done this so many times before back home; you weren’t going to tell her that. You had witnessed how scary she could be when she had scolded one of the girls, Karen you believe her name was. But that had been this morning and you had breezed through that task with ease, well, apart for the minor incident that involved one chicken that didn’t take too kindly to you and had chased and flew at you as you ran from it. You could hear Pearson and Dutch laughing with his cup of coffee in hand as they had watched the scene unfold. 

Now, you were sat with Hosea and Jack by one of the currently unlit camp fires near the hitching posts, each of you on either side of him. Hosea had volunteered to keep an eye on young Jack while Abigail worked on her chores around camp and somehow that had ended up with him looking after you too, for the time being. In the short time you had been here you had really taken a shine to Hosea, other than Arthur and Abigail, you felt at complete ease around him, it was just something about him that made you feel that if anything bad were to happen and he told you everything would be all right you would believe him at an instant. It would take a bit more time to get use to some of the others around camp, including Dutch, who had shown you nothing but kindness since you had got here, perhaps it was just the uncertainty of knowing that he could easily send you away home at the click of a finger that made you build up your walls when he was around. 

For the past half hour or so Hosea has been getting both Jack and you to practice your reading skills by speaking aloud passages from a book he had been reading. Both you and little Jack were actually really good at it too, though there were a numerous amount of big fancy words you both would stumble upon and Hosea would step in to help you both pronounce them. It had actually turned into a small but friendly competition between the both of you to see who could pronounce the word correctly first, the old man had found it highly amusing and had to hush you both now and then when the two of you got too carried away. Right now, however, Hosea was busy answering a question Jack had asked him which had then led to the man breaking into an anecdote about something or another. Whatever it was about you weren’t sure considering you had the current attention span of a spoon, especially when your eyes had landed on your favourite camp member nearby. 

You hadn’t seen Arthur since last morning so to say you were excited to see him again was an understatement. Glancing back over to Hosea and Jack you find that the old man is still rambling on while little Jack is watching eagerly, his mind absorbing and processing the information that was being given to him. While they’re distracted you take this as your chance to slink away and start making your way swiftly over. He’s standing by a wagon talking with three of the women, Karen, Tilly and Mary-Beth if you were remembering their names right. There were so many names to keep track of! 

“-And you’re worried about house chores? Let’s go!” Mary-Beth says urgently with enthusiasm. Arthur shakes his head in defeat. 

“Fair enough, you got me. Come on.” He says as the women cheer and start eagerly piling their way onto the back of wagon. You raise a brow as you quicken your pace now almost running. 

“Arthur!” You practically shout as you near him, causing him to look up from the ground as he throws away a cigarette you hadn’t noticed he’d been smoking. He shakes his head again in disbelief as he huffs out a laugh. 

“Well, look who it is.” He remarks, small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as you stop in front of him and look up with an infectious smile on your face. “How are ya doin’, kiddo?” 

“Good!” You keenly reply. Arthur nods before his eyes lead off into the direction in which you had come from before he motioned a wave off in said direction. Turning your head, you find that he had gestured over to Hosea who was shaking his head in bewilderment at you sneaking off with a grin on his face. Looking back over, Arthur is looking down at you and you can feel your smile falter as you begin to awkwardly shuffle under his sharp gaze. “A- are you leaving again?” 

Now it’s his turn to feel uncomfortable. He moves to place one hand on his belt while the other rubs the back of his neck soothingly. “Won’t be gone long. Just headin’ into town for a few things, is all.” 

You perk up a bit at this news. Town? You didn’t even know you were all near a town. Hell, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had been in one. Probably when your mother was alive or some time before her passing. 

“Can I go with you?” The question just blurts out of nowhere before you even have time to consider whether it would be wise to ask or not. Arthur just stares at you with widened blue eyes and confusion written all over his face as he blinks for a few seconds. 

“’scuse me?” 

“Please?!” Your little voice pleads with your hands clasped up at your chest as you look up at him with hopeful eyes. “I promise I’ll be good! I won’t wonder off or nothing.” 

Arthur scoffs as he looks over your head, off into the distance. 

“Nuh-uh.” He declares as he starts making his way around to the side of the wagon. “No, we ain’t doing this.” 

You chase after him. 

“But-” 

“No, (Y/N).” He stops and turns around to face you, stern look across his face. “Ain’t you supposed to be over there readin’ with Hosea and Jack?” 

You deflate at that. It was true that you were meant to be over there, but you wanted to hang out with Arthur more. You weren’t sure if it was because he had saved you or not but you really did feel more connected to him than anyone else here in the camp. Yet ever since he had brought you here, you’d been seeing less and less of him. 

“Oh, come on Arthur.” Mary-Beth speaks up from her spot on the wagon. Arthur’s quick to send a glare her way. “Give the kid a break, let ‘em come with us.” 

“’S not like keepin’ them here all the time’s gonna do them any good.” Karen interjects. He goes silent for a few moments as he ponders all the reasons on how this could possibly go wrong. His expression deadpans. 

“Fine.” He finally grumbles out in an annoyed tone before sharply turning back to you with a pointed finger. “But you don’t leave my sights, got it?” 

Standing up straight with a small smile now present on your face you give him a “Yes, sir.” Arthur then heads on up to sit by Uncle and takes the reins, muttering curses under his breath as he went while you hopped on in the back and sat next to Karen as Tilly and Mary-Beth smile across from you. 

The ride into town didn’t take all that long, even with the minor setback involving some man having one of his horses break free and Arthur reluctantly agreeing to help out. When you all stopped nearby the town’s stable Arthur and the three women arranged where to meet up once they were ready to head back, leaving you with both of the men. Uncle had taken the lead, heading towards the general store as he and Arthur bickered with every step. 

You had to walk quickly to keep up with them both while trying to take in the change of scenery. It had been a while since you had been around so many people at one time, the only other time being at camp. There was something about this town that made you feel uneasy and anxious, you couldn’t put a finger on what it was but there was some unknown reason as to why. You were yet to realise you had actually stopped walking as you stand gawking at the place, that was until you could hear Arthur shouting on you from outside the store and startles you from your daze. 

“What did I say before we left camp?” He says as you catch up to them. You stammer out an apology but he just waves it off before resting his hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’re goin’ in here, all right? Just do me a favour kid and don’t touch anything.” 

With a nod of your head Uncle leads the three of you in. They both start pondering around the shop, picking up and examining things while deciding whether they really needed it. One of the first things you notice Uncle grabbing is a bottle of alcohol, you weren’t at all surprised. Even within the short number of days you had been with them the majority of the times you had seen the man was either when he was flat out drunk, getting drunk or asleep after being drunk. It made you uncomfortable. Arthur on the other hand had grabbed a few essential things, a few tins of food, coffee, some first aid supplies and some treats for his horse. As promised, you didn’t touch anything and before you knew it you were being led by Arthur back out the door after he’d paid for his purchases. 

You had both found Uncle outside the store sitting on a bench, bottle of drink already opened. Shocker, I know. Arthur walks on over to him and sits down, you inwardly cringe when he accepts the bottle from Uncle and takes a swig of it himself before handing it back. Uneasily you stand by one of the wooden posts, shyly looking at the man. He must feel your eyes on him as he eventually looks over at you with a raised questioning brow. 

“What?” He says leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. When you cast your eyes down to the ground and start fidgeting with the hem of your coat, he rolls his eyes. “Oh no, don’t give me that look. You wanted to come along, remember? I told you we wasn’t gonna be long.” You sigh at that and he huffs out a quiet laugh. He was right after all, he did warn you it wouldn’t be a long trip. 

Shuffling passed Arthur you slump yourself down on the wooden steps not far off on his right, you hear Uncle start rambling on to Arthur behind you but you don’t bother listening in. Instead you decide to just sit there and observe the goings on of life around you while you still had the chance to; before heading back to the camp for who knows how long it’ll be until you’re next allowed to travel out. 

You watched as people hurried on by and you wondered where they were off to in such a haste. You watched a couple of other kids chase each other across the other side of town and you wondered what it would be like to have a normal life again, one where you could be running around with friends like that, with not a care in the world. You watched as people rode by on their horses and you wondered what Arthur had named his horse since you had yet to ask him. You watched everything, took in everything and let your imagination run wild. 

Time had moved on a little and you weren’t quite sure how long you had been sitting there daydreaming. You’d probably still be imagining a different world inside your head if it weren’t for the loud bark beside you making you jump out of your skin. Turning to the source you found a dog, a big fluffy black and white collie like dog standing just by the foot of the steps staring up at you with his tongue hanging out and tail wagging. You giggle as you shuffle down a step and start petting him while turning your head back up towards the store. 

“Arthur! Look!” You shout, startling the man who had been dozing off on the bench with his hat over his face. He looks over at you, panic initially hitting him at what could possibly be getting you to shout so loudly and then as soon as he realises there’s no danger, he’s not sure whether he should curse or grin. He settles for the latter considering how cheerful you look as you sit there with your furry friend with the biggest smile he’s seen you wear. “It’s a dog!” 

“Sure is, kiddo.” He warmly says, struggling to keep the grin on his face hidden. Arthur was absolutely certain that seeing you with that dog right now has been the happiest he’s seen you since he stumbled upon you. For some odd reason or another just seeing you smile like that or hearing you genuinely laugh for the first time as your furry friend rolls over for belly rubs, it makes his heart feel a little lighter. But it also stings, knowing very brief of what you’ve already been through at such a young age, how little things like this seems to help you forget the bad for just a short time. It stings because hearing you laugh reminds him of them, of how he had failed them; it terrified him to think what would happen if he were to fail both you and Jack. He wants nothing more than for you and little Jack Marston to get to live the life that you both deserve, free from all the awful things that an outlaw has to live with. 

For a moment he looks away. Just for one tiny moment, and when he looks back up everything had changed. The entire aura around him had changed from the light cheery feeling to something darker and sinister. Your furry friend had scurried off down the road and you were no longer laughing, oh no, not by a long shot. If anything, you looked absolutely petrified, perhaps even more so than at the O’Driscoll shack in the woods. He was alarmed by your sudden change and was immediately trying to find out what had caused it. 

It didn’t take him long. 

To his left his eyes abruptly land on a man who’s just come out of the saloon and is currently stumbling his way over to you, empty bottle falling from his hand and daggered glare in his eyes. Arthur’s on his feet in the blink of an eye. 

“Where the ‘ell ‘av you been?!” Your father furiously slurs at you stopping a short distance away and steadying himself on one of the wooden posts. You’re frozen to the spot, eyes fixated on the man you thought you’d never see again or ever wanted to. When you don’t answer quick enough, he gets more agitated as he moves closer and aggressively pulling you up from the step and onto your feet, a small yelp escapes you as his hands grip your shoulders tightly. “Didn’t wanna come home because you hate me, don’t you? Because I couldn’t save ‘er, that it?” 

Your heart was pounding like crazy as your jaw starts uncontrollably chittering and tears are already spilling out of your eyes. Now you remember why you had a bad feeling about this town, this was Valentine, this was near your home, this was the town your father spent most of his time and money in. 

“D-daddy, no...” Is all you somehow manage to squeak out. 

Then before anything else can happen your father’s grip on you is forcefully removed and he’s stumbling backwards. Arthur is now stood protectively in front of you with his back to you, shielding you from the drunk. 

“Leave the kid alone!” He seethes, holding back from pummelling the man to the ground. Your father scoffs as he tries to steady himself on his own two feet, shaking a pointed finger at Arthur as his fury turns to him. 

“Jus’ you stay outta this, mister. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.” He barks back, lurching his way forward to get at you again. Only this time Arthur was there and his patience was wearing thin. He shoves him back again only this time your father tries to throw a punch at Arthur and that’s the final straw as he knocks the man to the ground, Arthur going with him as they brawl. 

Suddenly, it’s all too much for you. You’re panicking so much that you can’t breathe, every fibre of your being is screaming at you to run, to get away from here and without thinking you do. You run. You don’t know where you’re going or what you’re running into as you push objects and people out of the way to just get as far away from the scene as possible. When everything hurts you just collapse against the nearest building with your back against the wall and your knees pulled up to your chin as you bawl your eyes out. 

Why was this happening? Why is it that whenever good things happen to you something bad is always a short distance behind? Were you just not allowed to be happy anymore? Were you ever going be free from your father both physically and psychologically, or was he just to haunt you for the rest of your life? Is this what you deserve after your mother death, to feel as miserable as he does every day? 

You had no idea how long you had been sitting here just trying to calm yourself down and steady your breathing. Just trying to stop all the negative thoughts of how this was all your fault, how you should never have left camp... 

“(Y/N).” 

An unsuspecting voice calls out from shadows of the side alley you were hiding down, causing you to instinctively tremble. Uncertain footsteps made their way towards you and your eyes instantly recognised who had called on you, you relaxed a little. 

Arthur stopped in front of you, kneeling down to look you over for any injuries. Once he was certain you weren’t hurt, he placed a hand on your knee as he looked over your tear stained face. There’s a lot of guilt eating away at him now, he should never have allowed himself to lose control in front of you like that. He probably shouldn’t have brought you here in the first place, he sure as hell wouldn’t have if he’d known your father lived nearby and what he’d done. One thing for certain was he didn’t regret punching the bastard in the face, especially after how he’d treated you and the trauma he’s caused, he only regrets you seeing him do it. 

“You ok?” His gruff voice gently asks as he watches you attentively. You don’t look up at him, you don’t even motion to move or say anything. You just sit there silently for a while just trying to process the question. Where you even ok? Honestly, this was all just too much for your little self to cope with. 

“I-I’m...” You try to speak out but your small voice is just barely above a whisper and you just can’t form anymore words. So, you let the walls crumble down, shaking your head in a ‘no’ and that was all it took for the overwhelming parental emotion within Arthur to kick in as he carefully pulled you forward and into an embrace, which just made you cry out all the more. It’s been so long since anyone’s hugged you. 

Arthur lightly rubs your back as he hushes you with soothing words like, “It’s gonna be all right,” and “You’re safe now, he ain’t ever gonna hurt you again. I promise.” You both just stay there for a while. He doesn’t even care if there’s people nearby giving him weird looks, you’re his main priority right now. When you finally calm down, he pulls away, wiping any remaining tears off your face as he gives you a small smile. 

“Now then, how ‘bout we get ourselves all home.” You brighten up at that, a small smile of your own appearing on your face at the thought of being as far away from this town as possible. 

“Yes, please!”


	3. In The Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to update, life has been pretty hectic as of late. Secondly, I'm sorry this chapter is shorter than the last, I think for now they will be around this length as it's easier to manage. I'm also worried this chapter isn't that great, I've been struggling with this one for a while now, writer's block is hell. I'm hoping that for the next chapter it'll be more fluffy and include more interactions with other camp members, maybe John? Haven't decided yet. 
> 
> Anyway, it's currently almost 5am as I write this, if there are any errors let me know and I'll fix them as soon as I'm able to function like a normal human being. Thank you! <3
> 
> -Ariel

Darkness surrounds you. Tall silhouettes of trees loom all around with no clear path in sight. Moonlight boldly battling its way through the wooden shadows of arms that engulf your view of the night’s sky. The sound of nothing but sinister silence fills your ears. The pulsating rhythm of your heart was drumming a quickening beat within your chest. 

Where were you? 

An involuntary shiver escapes you as you wrap your arms around yourself. You weren’t prepared for this. It’s so cold. You puff out a breathy gasp as another violent shiver shakes through you, your breath fading before you in a small white cloud. There was nothing around you. No sign of life to be found.

You were alone. Again. 

Why did you always end up alone?! 

Where was everyone? Why were you here all by yourself? 

“Hello?” You call out. Hugging yourself tightly you take a few attentive steps forward. “Is anyone there?!” 

Nothing. You were met with nothing. Nothing but a gust of harsh icy wind and the bristling of trees. This wasn’t happening. What were you going to do? You could feel yourself start to panic. That sickening feeling building up inside you. You pick up the pace and begin to walk faster. 

“Arthur, are you there?!” You briefly pause as you rapidly search through the darkness around you for any hint of the living. 

“Hosea?!” Silence. 

“Jack?!” Silence. 

“Anyone?!” 

Silence. 

Something wasn’t right. You could feel it, everything within you screaming that this was a whole new level of wrong. Breathing was starting to become difficult now. Why couldn’t you remember what had happened? What had led to you being here on your own? 

A heavy tight grip lands on your right shoulder and instantly a cold sense of fear hits you as you freeze. You dare not turn around to face whoever it was that was now standing behind you. Their figure towering over you in a menacing manner as their cold eyes glare down at you, burning into the back of your head. 

You hear them shuffle as they lean down to your level. Their face stopping inches away from your ear. Closing your eyes tightly you silently hope that he’d leave you be. Yes, you knew who this person was. The overpowering smell of whiskey on his breath was a huge giveaway. 

“I told ya I’d find ya, (Y/N).” An ominous chuckle erupts from him. Sharply you pull away from him with all the might you could muster and turn to face him as you swiftly back away. Your father looks at you with his head at a tilt. A sly grin filling his face as he then pulls a bottle to his lips and drains the remainder of its contents before throwing it off into the bushes. 

No. This could NOT be happening. Hurriedly you turn away from him, bolting off in any direction that wasn’t towards him. You had to get away. You had to get to safety. 

You had to find Arthur. 

“YOU CAN RUN ALL YA WANT. I’LL ALWAYS FIND YA, KID!” Your father roars from somewhere behind you. 

But you don’t have time to care about his threats. Weaving between trees and bushes, you run. Run as fast as your legs can carry you. You don’t know where you’re going. You don’t even know where you are. Everything just looked the same. Had you passed by that tree already? You can’t tell, you just need to keep going. Your breaths are heavy as you gulp for air greedily as you force yourself to not stop. Vision blurring with the build-up of tears that you had no time to deal with, each tear eventually sliding down the side of your face. 

The burning in your lungs forces you to stop at a clearing. Finally, you were free from the gloomy forest. Now, however, you were face to face with a whole new problem. That problem being the sharp and abrupt end of ground that drastically led to the vicious waves of a dark bottomless river that thrashed angrily against the rocks below. 

There was nowhere to run. You could hear your father catching up as he tauntingly calls out your name somewhere within the darkness of the trees. You were going to be sick. He had cornered you. There was no escape this time and no one to save you. This was it. 

With a gulp you turn back around to face the now approaching figure of your father who breaks out from between the darkness. He tuts at you as he stops a short distance away from you, his hands upon his belt as he shakes his head disapprovingly with a chilling smile upon his face. 

“See? Ya can’t hide from me forever.” He takes a step towards you, which pushes you to take a step backwards. With each step he forces you to tread closer and closer to the cliff edge, stopping when you slowly back up and feel no more ground behind you with your foot as your eyes never left the man in front of you. He stopped then, a look of curiosity appearing upon his face as he barks out a laugh. “Don’t be an idiot, now. You jump and you probably won’t even reach the bottom before ya die.” 

You glance over your shoulder at the spikey rocks below you, their jagged edges like knives as the icy cold water continues to batter against them. Glancing back, you notice he’s gotten closer, now only an arm's length away. You couldn't do this. You didn’t want to die. But you didn’t want to go back with him. Who knew what would happen once you got back? Being with him the way he was now, it was a fate worse than death. He would probably kill you himself. 

He reached out to grab you and you instinctively jolt backwards, your eyes widening at what you had just done. You see him scramble forward to catch you, but he misses. You’re falling now. The ruthless freezing air embraces you as gravity pulls you towards your impending demise at an alarming speed. You close your eyes tightly, nothing but black fills your vision. You were going to die. You think of your mother, you’ll get to see her again. You’ll finally never be alone again. 

You jolt awake gasping for air. Glancing around at your surroundings you find that you weren’t alone, you were at camp with the rest of the gang. You were safe. It was just a dream, a bad one at that. But it had felt so real. Truth be told, you hadn’t been sleeping well since you had arrived at camp days ago. Seeing your father earlier today when you were in town with Arthur and the others must have set something off within you. No matter how much you tried to push away the thoughts of him you just kept thinking about how furious he had looked. 

Oh, how you wish you could forget. 

Pushing your blanket off you slowly make your way out of the shared tent, careful not to wake Tilly or anyone else nearby. As you approach one of the camp fires nearby you notice the embers of wood glowing orange as the flames dance while illuminating the site, the fire didn’t look as though it would be burning out anytime soon. One of the first things that you notice is that it’s still night time, perhaps even the very early hours of the morning considering how prominent the moon shines up in the dark sky with the flickering of stars all around. If it wasn’t for how tense you feel right now you would have found it mesmerising just how beautiful the night sky really is. 

The other thing you notice is it’s quiet. It seems that the majority of camp must still be asleep. Perhaps it was for the best that they were asleep, you didn’t want any of them giving you any more worried looks. You’ve had about enough of people staring at you for one day. Taking in a few deep breaths of the cool crisp air you try to calm yourself. That nightmare had really freaked you out. It’s not that you hadn’t had nightmares before, of course you had; it was more to do with you never having a nightmare so vivid like that. Never before had you actually felt as though you were falling. Even now while you were standing here awake the thought of it makes you cringe. 

Now awake, you weren’t entirely sure what you should do. You knew for a fact that if you were caught being up at this hour, you’d be sent straight back to your assigned tent to sleep. But sleeping just sounded impossible right now. Turning, you glance hopefully over in the direction of Arthur’s tent for a chance that his lantern might still be on. Your hopes however were dashed when you see that it isn’t. Yet, even though you knew it would be best not to disturb him...

You find yourself dawdling over. This was most likely a bad idea. Arthur had been through enough today, especially after that scene with him and your father in Valentine; only to then have to deal with finding you afterwards and then track down the girls and bring them back to the meet up point, which then led to him having to separate from the group and speed off after some guy on horseback who believed he knew who he was and something involving a place called Blackwater. It was late when Arthur had ridden back into camp, just in time say a quick goodnight to you before you were sent off to sleep. 

Hesitantly, you stop just outside of his tent unsure whether you should go in or not. Dreaded flashes of your nightmare start to play through your mind and that was enough to solidify your decision. Gently, you push open the flap of tarp, just small enough for you to scurry on through. Taking a second, you allow your eyes to adjust to just how dark and dingy it is in here before looking over to the man himself. He was lying down on his cot, still dressed in the clothes you had seen him in earlier that day. One of his arms was stretched back behind his head as a support of some kind as the other lay across his torso, he also had one of his legs pulled up in a bend while having his hat rest over his face. 

Slowly, you creep over towards him before stopping within arms distance. 

“Arthur?” You whisper as your small hand gently reaches out and touches his shoulder. He jolts awake at your touch, shooting up to a sitting position almost instantly with his hat flying off to the ground, it was almost as though he had been doused in ice cold water. 

“What the-?” His rough voice grumbles, still heavy with sleep. It takes him a moment to focus before his eyes land on you and with a deep sigh he rubs his face. “(Y/N)? What are you doin’ up?” 

Now you feel guilty for causing him such alarm. You could see just how tired he is as he looks at you with concern. Shuffling nervously, you grip onto your arm as you look down at your shoes. “I-I had a bad dream.” 

A brief frown escapes onto Arthur’s face before quickly softening. He should have known, why else would you be here at this time of night? “Bad dream, huh?” He says as he swings his legs around to rest upon the ground and instantly stretches. You nod as he leans forward and picks up his hat from his seated position, setting it on his head as he looks back up to you. “You know they ain’t real, right?” 

“I know.” You fret, eyes now intensely focused on his. “But I’ve never had one that felt so real before. It was scary.” 

You both fall into silence then, and not an entirely comfortable one like before. You weren’t entirely sure why you had even come to Arthur in the first place, it’s not as though he could do anything about your nightmares, like click his fingers and magically make them stop. Perhaps you were just hoping that he’d make you feel a little better, but what did you expect? It’s really early in the morning, you’ve just woken the man up after the day he’s had over something so insignificant. At this rate you were probably making him regret saving you. 

Arthur clears his throat. 

“So, do you uh-” He pauses as he carefully considers his words. “You wanna talk about it?” 

Ok, so maybe you hadn’t completely annoyed him yet. With a nod of your head Arthur shuffles over before giving the space beside him a pat, inviting you to sit beside him on his cot. Sitting beside Arthur you instantly cast your eyes down to your hands that have already begun to start fidgeting. You could feel Arthur sitting beside you turn so that he was now facing you, his attention completely on you. 

“I was alone in the middle of nowhere. I don’t know, it was kinda like where you found me but there were no bad men or any cabins.” You start in a low voice as you begin to describe what had happened. “I tried calling for you, for Hosea, for anyone really. But nobody came.” You turn to look up at him then as he watches you closely, your eyes widening with panic as you begin to remember what happened next in your dream. “Th-then he showed up and I managed to get away and run, I didn’t stop, I kept running but then there was nowhere to go and there was a cliff and then he found me again. And-and then...” 

“Hey, hey, shh.” Arthur pulls you close then and for the second time today you were crying into his chest as he sooths you by gently rubbing your back. “It’s all right now, it was just a bad dream.” When you eventually calm down, he pulls you away wiping a stray tear off your face with his thumb before resting his hand on your shoulder. “Ain’t nothing bad gonna happen to you no more, I promised you that earlier, remember?” 

“But I fell...” 

“Hush now. I won’t let ya fall, kid.” 

A peacefulness falls upon you both as you sit there together in the dim tent. Now you knew why you had the need to go to him once you had woken up; because every time you spoke with him, no matter how little the conversation would be, you always felt better, more confident and surer of yourself. If your constant need to seek him out whenever something went wrong or just because you wanted to talk irritated him, he never once showed or voiced it. Maybe he even enjoys your company as much as you enjoy his, but then again that could just be wishful thinking. 

“Arthur, why does he hate me?” You blurt out causing him to stiffen at the abrupt question, an emotionless look now crossing over his face. You have no idea why or where the question even came from but it was out and now seeming as good a time as any to ask. “I know it’s my fault, how my momma got sick; he told me it was but why does he have to hate me so much? I didn’t mean it.” 

Arthur remains silent for a while, unsure whether he should answer or not and if so how? What was he supposed to say? He barely knew the feller, but from what he had seen earlier today and pieced together from what you had told him he knew your father was nothing but an absolute bastard and if anything, you were lucky to be away from the man. His blood boiled thinking about him now at how much he had terrified you earlier, he swore if he ever crossed paths with him again Arthur would be much obliged at reminding him to stay the hell away from you. 

When he didn’t respond you frown, a pained expression on your face. You didn’t blame him for not answering, it’s not like Arthur was going to know. He wasn’t your father after all. He was far better, even within the short time you’d known him that much was obvious to you. But it didn’t help all the unanswered questions inside your head, it was true that your father’s rage towards you was unexplained. You just hoped that someone would have been able to give you some idea as to why he despised you so much. Or better, perhaps you should carefully think about what you say before speaking from now on. 

“Now you listen to me, (Y/N). What happened with your momma ain’t your fault, you hear me?” Arthur unexpectedly voices, his face deadly serious now. You shake your head in disagreement as you look up at him with disbelief. 

“But if I hadn’t begged her to take me to town that day she wouldn’t have gotten sick.” 

“Still ain’t your fault, kid. No one was to know she’d have gotten sick.” Arthur sighs as he lowers his hand from your shoulder. “As for your daddy, well, he don’t deserve you. Not if this is how he’s gone and treated you.” 

“I miss her, Arthur.” You say sadly, wishing that you could see your mother just one more time so that she could hug you and tell you that everything was going to be ok. 

“I’m sure you do, kiddo.” Arthur softly says, a sorrowful smile upon his face. 

“She use to sing to me when I had bad dreams and I couldn’t go back to sleep.” You reminisce, thinking of all those times you would be lying in your bed restless, your mother sat by your side as she delicately sung to you while lightly running her hand through your hair until you would fall asleep. 

Arthur huffed out a quiet laugh. “Hate to break it to ya, but I ain’t much of a singer.” He says as he ruffles your hair causing you to laugh and try to smack his hand away. He lightly slaps your knee as he stands up and turns to face you. “Tell you what, you give me a minute to go get a chair and I’ll sit up with ya ‘till you go back to sleep, sound fair?” 

You look up at him with surprise. 

“Wait-you mean I can stay in here with you?” 

“Sure.” He answers tiredly with a smile still on his face. “I’ll be right back.” 

True to his word, Arthur returned only a couple of moments later with a wooden chair in one hand and a spare blanket in the other. Carefully, he sits the chair down close by the cot before passing you the blanket. 

“Now then, you get some sleep. I’ll be right here” He sets himself down on the chair. You frown in realisation. 

“But what about you?” You ask, starting to feel guilty that not only had you woken Arthur up but now you were stealing his bed. He waved his hand in dismissal as he slouches down on the chair. 

“Never you mind ‘bout me. I’ll be fine right here, kid.” 

Slowly you lie yourself down on his cot and snuggle into the blanket that he’d given you. After a few moments you could already feel your eyes getting heavy, exhaustion finally coming back to take you off to sleep again. 

“Goodnight, Arthur.” You whisper. 

“Night, (Y/N).” 

You’re almost certain that as you drift off you can hear the sounds of Arthur humming a song.


End file.
